


Like to Like

by trascendenza



Category: Tortall - Pierce
Genre: 100 word drabble, Community: femslash100, F/F, POV Female Character, serial drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-05
Updated: 2007-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:36:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trascendenza/pseuds/trascendenza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alanna meets an interesting Scanran squire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like to Like

**Author's Note:**

> Written for femslash100, challenges 91-97+99 (6x100w, 2x150w).

**91\. Prudence**

"Be careful," Duke Gareth advised, leveling his eyes at the squires. "But keep your eyes and ears open. These negotiations are crucial to the safety of our kingdom and if you hear anything, report it immediately."

He looked across the room where the Scanran squires were gathered.

"And pay attention to them, particularly—they may prove invaluable resources. Dismissed!"

Alanna hurried across the room, bumping into one the Scanran squires in her haste to get to the kitchen.

"'Scuse me." He smiled at her boldly, a twinkle in his green eyes.

"Sorry," she said, hurrying away, damning herself for blushing.

**92\. Hope**

"I'm Leen of Scanra," he introduced later, cornering her just as she was setting down a huge stack of plates.

"I'm Alan of Trebond."

He looked at her expectantly, his green eyes very friendly and amused.

Flushing yet again, she offered him her hand, and they clutched at the elbows.

"Happy to know you, Alan."

He bit his lip, delicate features schooled into hesitance. "I was wondering—if you wouldn't mind, of course—would you be my sparring partner while I'm here?"

Alanna evaluated his frame—very similar to hers—and was nodding her consent even before she said yes.

**93\. Faith**

They'd been evenly matched at wrestling, but Alanna, to her surprise, had eventually taken the upper hand. They were sharing a water skin behind the stables, mopping off their brows. Maybe it was just his size, but wrestling with Leen was somehow different from the rest of the squires, but she couldn't quite place it—

"I like you, Alan," Leen suddenly said.

"I like you, too," she said, surprised that she meant it. She hardly knew him, yet she already felt as if she trusted him.

"Tomorrow?" He rose up and dusted off his breeches.

She smiled. "Wouldn't miss it."

**94\. Charity**

"Go to your room, Alan," Myles said, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

"What? Oh, I'm so sorry, sir—"

He smiled warmly. "Don't be sorry. I recognize that look—she's a lucky girl, whoever she is, Alan."

Alanna nearly choked on the protestation that welled up. Myles waved his hands, ushering her out before she could find the air to offer it. "On with you, now. Go and find her."

So she did, resolved that she would get this settled before the lunch hour was out. No boy, even Leen, could be worth this kind of distraction.

**95\. Temperance**

She held back, slowing her reactions by just fractions of a second. It was enough. Leen pinned her, once, twice, thrice—and she still couldn't figure out what it was. He was skinny, sure—a little soft in the hips and legs—but nothing that should be giving her this gnawing in her gut, this strange feeling in her chest when he curved his full lips up into a smile that seemed reserved just for her.

They dusted off, grabbing a water skin and sitting down for a breather, not even discussing it. Like they'd been doing this for years.

**96\. Gifts**

Three more lunch hours came and went and she hadn't solved her problem. She could feel her hands itching to _do_ something about it. Maybe strangle Leen for being so—so—

Utterly likable.

There was a light tap on her door, and she opened it and there he was, as if summoned by her thoughts.

"For you," he said with flourish, holding out folded fabric.

It was a tunic, the light Scanran weave that Tortallans couldn't seem to match no matter how hard they tried.

She fingered the soft purple fabric, not even minding when her chest felt all funny.

**97\. Justice**

They watched the stars wink into existence. He was leaving tomorrow.

"Tell me, Alan," he said, picking at the grass between them, "do you think it's fair that women cannot get a knight's shield?"

Alanna started, jerking her face up to look at him. And his aquiline features were soft, understanding, green eyes smiling as much as his mouth.

She threw back her shoulders, chest trembling under her bindings.

"No. I don't."

"Me neither," he said, and his voice changed, became higher, more lilting. He touched a thin finger under her chin and held her gaze, and it was right there, Alanna could almost sense it, humming in an electrical current that went from his fingertips to her skin—

He dropped his hand and lay back. "I think you've already earned it."

"I still have The Ordeal."

He smiled. "That'll be the easy part. You've already done the hard work."

**99\. Kindness**

He shrugged his thing shoulders, shifting the bags. "They say we'll be back, soon. Seems like the nobles never can settle things to their satisfaction."

"That would be nice," she said, more hopeful than she would have liked. She'd told Myles that she thought the Scanra convoy leaving today would solve her problem, but he'd just shook his head, patting her on the shoulder. She still had no idea what he meant by that, but she had no intention of finding out.

"Be well, Leen of Scanra." She said, holding out her arm.

"And you, Alan of Trebond," he said, and they clutched at the elbows in a mirror of their first greeting which seemed years ago but was only weeks.

Suddenly Leen kissed her, gentle as he did everything else.

"My name's Leenya." She whispered, closing the door quietly behind her, her last kindness: letting Alanna keep her illusions.


End file.
